Suzanne Hayasaki Poems

Like a glass ballerina
High up on a shelf
I call down to you,
“Handle me! ”
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Strains of sadness sift through my window.
Someone is bowing a cello strongly, sweetly, slowly
Sending out sorrow with each lethargic stroke across the strings.
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Can you feel it?
The earth is tilting her face towards her man.
The mornings are a little bit warmer.
The afternoons are a little bit brighter.
...

I am the queen of the ice flows.
I have ruled with impunity for 100,000 years.
But my reign is ending.
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I am a Comanche war pony.
I am painted and ready to raid.
My battle scars have been outlined in red
And I wear the handprints of my rider on my chest.
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Dawn breaks like a tea cup.
Dribbling dabs of sunlight
Across the white damask counterpane
Waking me gently from a troubled sleep.
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I flow.
I flood.
I fertilize fallow fields at the feet of pharaohs,
As they sit, witnesses of the march of time,
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I am as colorful as a chameleon.
I am as mercurial as clouds.
I am as acrobatic as an octopus,
Juggling time itself while spraying ink to distract you
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Play a symphony on my skin.
Let your fingertips dance on its surface.
Slide them lightly down my arm.
Then let them rest at the base of my spine.
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Come stand with me
Under a canopy
Of shooting stars
And red nebulas.
...